Raito's Nail
by I.write.sins.not.tradgedies
Summary: Raito's thoughts about L. Short oneshot plot drabble, no pairings. No heart wenching spoilers. I wanted to write some Raito angst.


A/N: Just a quick one-shot plot story I was struck with. Not much thought was put into it. I just wanted something quick to get me into a writing mood. I am happy about this overall. No pairings sorry. Another story for another day.

_Raito's Ponderings On L_

Nail: a slender, typically rod-shaped rigid piece of metal, usually in any of numerous standard lengths from a fraction of an inch to several inches and having one end pointed and the other enlarged and flattened, for hammering into or through wood, other building materials, etc., as used in building, in fastening, or in holding separate pieces together.

2. A thin, horny plate, consisting of modified epidermis, growing on the upper side of the end of a finger or toe.

3. A former measure of length for cloth, equal to 21/4 in. (6.4 cm)

Now, besides for the third definition, most everyone can identify what a nail is. Even though most people can do so, nails don't seem to take much significance in one's life.

But one Raito Yagami was focusing on a nail a bit too intently for his own taste. Picking at it, gnawing on it, grazing it over his pants again and again, and sucking on it. It was driving him mad. It was all L's fault. And that fact alone made him pick at the horny plate more.

Alright, so he hadn't been cutting his nails to a hygienic length for the past 2 months. It wasn't his fault. I mean it wasn't he who locked himself in solitary confinement, even if it was part of his ingenious route towards innocence, in a straightjacket. After his release, L had noted the grime under the layers of protective cells on the tips of his fingers and had decided to trim them for him. He had said it was the least he could do after confining him for 50 days.

Che, if he had known THIS was the payment L would bestow upon him he would have stabbed out those insomnia induced eyes with his overgrown protective plates.

L had cut one of his fingernails, index of the left to be exact, too short and now the uncomfortable feeling was slowly drilling away at his mind. It was disconcerting how just this one normally trivial thing was hindering him so. He would type in some information into the computer in front of him but then that glaring red skin and unnatural looking nail would be there, teasing him, provoking him to assault its abnormality.

It was strange. Raito would pick under the hardened cells, bite it shorter, pick at the protective skin, and in general make the whole irritation a hell lot worse than it already was. But he couldn't stop. The miniscule pain was overridden by the undeniable urge to keep mutilating his already anomalous fingernail. There was something very magnetic to the idea of how far he could push the pain in his pretty little pink finger.

He sighed, I will not touch my finger, no I won't. I will not touch it. I am above physical pain. Mental chants repeated in Raito's mind.

Ergh. Fingers gripped the wood table, as chocolate eyes glued themselves on to the screen before them. Tan digits grew white with tension. I will not succumb to such a paltry pleasure.

Raito sighed in defeat as he felt his digit betray him and push at his lips for entry once more. How could L enjoy such an abject habit? What _was_ L's problem? Always accusing him of being Kira. Even if he was said murderer. Why couldn't he just die of an overused brain, or choke to death from an unfortunate fork accident? Never was he graced with a break from the calling threat of L. He was just like this damned fingernail!

Annoying, unnatural, a detrimental factor to his very being. Always gnawing away at his mind and consciousness, distracting him. Making him want to scream bloody murder and rip out his honey brown hair.

Raito staggered out of his chair, his finger inseparable from his scowling lips as he stalked over to the kitchen. But just you wait L. A smooth but strong hand reached towards the wall cabinets and pulled out a medium-sized, 9x12 inch box. It was set on the table with a soft thunk and clicked open.

Paper rustled as one hand flipped through the contents of the box, a low growl rumbling through a thin, but proud neck; rippling out as rough chuckles while dark eyes stared down at a hand. Glaring at his now bandaged finger, Raito couldn't stop his laughter, his mirth slipping from smirking lips. L was just like his finger. And soon, he too will be silenced. In time. In time.

A/N: Like it, hate it? Would go jump out naked if you would review. Or not if that's what you would prefer. -.-


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